Pushing Me Away
by Analya-Goddess of emotions
Summary: After being forced to miss a year of schooling, Alex goes back for his fifth year. Through remedial classes and his secretive sketches, he finds that not everyone is an open book - and some have covers thicker than others. Alex/Draco.


**A/N:** Hey everybody! I know I have a lot of fanfictions that I've left unfinished, _buuuuut_ I had this idea that I had gotten from a roleplay and a little plot bunny started skipping around in my mind. This is my first Harry Potter fic (though not my first Alex Rider). Due to the fact that the timing in the Alex Rider books a quite confusing, I just decided to shove it all together during what would have been his fourth year at Hogwarts.

**Warning:** If you're a homophobe, don't read this. That's about it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything at all, sadly enough.

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**Pushing Me Away**

Prologue – _Spies_

Alex couldn't help feeling sad when September 1st came along. It would have been the start of his fourth year, but MI6 could care less about his education. Hell, they didn't even know where he had been going to school the past three years. They just sent him off to Brookland, not caring if he actually went there prior or not. After all, that is where most kids in his area went. When he did go there for maybe a few weeks, it seemed as though everyone was obliviated into thinking he had been going there for years. No doubt the help of the Ministry of Magic…

"_Dinner's ready, Alex!"_

A loud, female, American voice pulled him out of his bitter musings. "Be right there," Alex responded a lot less energetically. He sat down his wand that he had been twirling around in his hands for the past hour on the table next to the sofa and stood up.

Normally, Alex would have been feasting in the Great Hall with the rest of his house. He would have seen the first years sorted and heard Dumbledore's speech. He would have laughed among his friends – well, the ones who talked to him, that is. Coming from a family of muggles didn't give you the best footing with those who were in the house of the snakes. Even so, Alex would have taken part in the bets on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He would have actually been happy, instead of sulking around the house.

Alex shook his head to clear the thoughts out of his head. He didn't need to be thinking about what could have been when it would never be. He sat down at the table, an annoyed expression planted on his face that didn't pass the notice of his guardian and housekeeper, Jack.

"You might be able to go back next year," Jack stated kindly, trying desperately to lighten the teen's mood.

Alex shook his head sadly. "MI6 would never let me out of their grasp. And I'd be so far behind everyone else. There's no way that I'd be ready for the exams at the end of fifth year after missing an entire year." He sighed and twirled the spaghetti around his fork. Even one of his favourite foods wasn't enough to help his dull mood.

It was all MI6's fault. He _would_ have sent a return owl after getting his list of supplies (which was now decomposing on a French hillside, which would soon be covered by a layer of snow) if it wasn't for the fact that he was trying to save the world from a bloody psychopath and his clones that were just as horrible as the original. While he had been pretending to be a troubled student, there was no way that he would have been able to find and act kindly towards an owl. Let alone be able to send off a letter with one without the creature being shot and the letter read. It also didn't help that he barely had time to glance at the letter before discarding it. And by the time he had recovered from his many injuries, it was past July 31st – The deadline for sending back a letter saying that he could go.

Having lost his appetite at the memory of the past few months, Alex dropped his fork on his plate and stood up. Ignoring Jack's protests, he grabbed his wand and stormed up to his room. He needed some time alone where Jack couldn't pester him – trying to get him to feel better. It wouldn't surprise him if MI6 contacted him the next day, blackmailing him into yet another mission. Or some head of a criminal organization, probably Scorpia, would send an assassin to kill him. He was involved with too much for someone his age.

Alex flopped down onto his bed, an angry sigh escaping his lips. His life was a nightmare. It was just his luck that once something brilliant happened; it would be taken away from him. Like his parents. Like his childhood. Like his friends. Now that he _finally_ had something special, it was being ripped away from him by the hands of the muggle government. Considering the luck he'd been having, he would come of age before finishing his Ordinary Wizarding Levels, which would keep him from getting a job after graduating. Or from taking the N.E.W.T. courses.

If he even lived that long.

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Little did the two occupants inside the house know, there was a tabby cat and an aged wizard with half-moon spectacles, a long white beard, and a strange purple robe standing outside of their house. "That child will go far, whether he knows it or not." The man chuckled softly to the cat beside him. "And who knows, maybe he'll become the hero for muggles as Harry is to the rest of us." The tabby seamed to roll her eyes at the older man. And with a crack, they both disappeared.

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**A/N:** Hope you liked that! I would love some advice. I have some ideas for the next few chapters, but I'm still working out the smaller ideas .The next chapter will be at the beginning of his fifth year. Please tell me what you thought of this! I love reviews like Harry loves Quidditch!


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